Ghosts
by Light1
Summary: Adrian is alone with the ghosts of his past.


**Ghosts**

Disclaimer: Castlevania belongs to Konami, not me. I am making £0.00 out of this fic, it is written purely because I have a burning need to create. Although I would like to own Alucard . . . then he'd be mine.

Rating: PG-13

Part: one of one

Setting: Post Season 2

Authoress Note: Adrian is alone with the ghosts of his past.

_Italics = thoughts and flashbacks_

**Ghosts**

Adrian had been seeing the ghosts of his parents and himself since the death of his father.

He had put the visions down to his grief, dismissed them as phantoms created by his grieving mind. But real or not, he saw them throughout the castle. He saw his mother, most often in her laboratory, working diligently. His father's ghost dwelt mostly in the library and the study, though would occasionally turn up in unexpected places, like the stairs or Adrian's old bedroom. His own ghost he saw in the hallways, always laughing and running away.

The ghosts were silent and unaware of the world around them, reflections re-enacting days long past, unable to see the present day. It was harrowing but comforting at the same time. He both hated and craved their presence. The duality tore at him and he had to physically stop himself seeking the shades out knowing full well that once he saw them, it would hurt.

He talked with them after a few days of solitude and when he noticed this; he shifted his form to his wolf shape, to remove his own vocal cords and along with them the temptation to speak to apparitions. But he couldn't stay in that form forever, thumbs were essential to his current living conditions, especially when confronted with a closed door. So, it was only a matter of time until he started having full-blown conversations.

He spoke to his mother initially, telling her about life in the castle which areas needed repair and what his progress was, he told her about the conditions of the gardens which she had loved almost as much as her laboratory and about the library which he was going to expand. But most of all he talked about his father, his conflicting emotions of love, grief, longing and his deep-seated resentment.

His mother's ghost never responded. She didn't see him; she was repeating the motions she had gone through in life, but it helped him a little to speak with her, to give voice to how he felt and displace a little of his growing loneliness.

He tried talking to his own ghost but was at a complete loss what he could say to his younger self, so instead, he smiled and tried to enjoy the sound of his own youthful happiness. It was his father's ghost that he wanted to speak with, but every time he tried; he closed up, literally, his throat closed if he tried to give voice to his thoughts around the towering spectre.

He could already feel his throat tightening as he walked into the study and saw his father's spectral self sitting in his chair, in his lap curled the sleeping spectre of Adrian's younger self, bundled up in his father's cape, he looked so small. Adrian felt his hands shake, but from longing or anger, he couldn't tell. He bitterly missed the days when his father's presence had been the source of his safety rather than his grief.

He strode purposefully into the room, using his anger to give himself strength and courage. Standing before his father's ghost he felt his resolve waver. The spectre wasn't looking at him, instead was entirely focused on the sleeping boy in his arms, watching him rest, while running long claws gently through his hair. It made Adrian's chest tight.

"Why did you do it?" Adrian whispered when he felt he could get enough air. The vision of his father said nothing remained focused on the sleeping boy, and his gentle petting. "Why did you leave me here alone?" his voice rose a little, but to no effect. Already he felt his anger fading, watching the quietly affectionate moment.

"I know you missed her, I did too." Adrian swallowed hard, the lump in his throat suddenly preventing his words. Instead, he slumped to the floor, putting his back to his father's chair and sat silently, his mind in turmoil. "But did you have to leave as well?"

"Why wasn't I enough for you to stay?" he managed, his voice rough, tears starting once again. He looked up behind him at the figure in the chair, still quietly watching his boy sleep, bundled in his cloak. "I know you cared about me," Adrian swallowed, hoping to clear his throat. "I know you did, but why wasn't it enough to keep you here?" he looked away again.

He flinched when he felt icy fingers move into his hair. The touch was gentle, even with the long claws catching on his tangled hair. His breath stopped for a long moment. The ghosts had never once responded to him and while he knew it wasn't real, Adrian let his eyes close and leaned back, placing his head against the spectres knee and let himself be comforted.

"I miss you, you absolute bastard."

**End Fic**

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